This House (Aches)
by Beloved-the-Fool
Summary: Alec, in the wake of Gillian's departure


A/N: A bit more explanation of this piece follows at the end because I don't feel like it's appropriate at the beginning.

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Disclaimer: LtM isn't mine nor are any of the characters.

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_**This house aches / I whistle its tune / After so much noise / Freedom is silence…**_

Silence. Silence and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. That's all he can hear as he sits alone on the too-large sofa in the darkened living room of the too-quiet house. Silence and the steady, rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock and both of them far too loud to bear.

He had wanted his freedom but hadn't wanted her to have hers. She has it now.

**_Half the house is missing / Taken half of me with it…_**

"I can't do this with you anymore, Alec. I can't keep going through the motions. It isn't fair – to either of us. I'm sorry. I tried."

And she really had tried. Right up to the very end. She kept trying, kept giving him chance after chance after undeserved chance to get it right. He had _wanted_ to. Oh, how he'd _wanted_ to. He wanted to get it right, wanted to deserve her love and devotion and loyalty and dedication. He fought, but the monster inside – the one that clawed at his frayed ends of sanity, the one that demanded "just one more" high – proved a stronger man than the one with which Gillian had fallen in love all those years ago.

What hurt the most was that _she_ had apologized to _him_ as she left. As thought the failing were hers, not his.

**_I had imagined this hurting in a different way / Hurting in a different way / Hurting in a different way…_**

It hurt when she left. It was strange, though. Somehow, her absence didn't hurt nearly as much as her presence had. Her absence left an ache that pulsed, low and intermittent. Getting better then worse, burning hot and cold under his skin. Her presence… That had been a constant, searing pain. A daily reminder of how he was failing her time and again. That he was less of a man than he should have been, less of a man than she believed him to be. And if it were only the pain _he_ felt, that would have been tolerable; but it wasn't only his pain, and he knew it. She stayed. She stayed with him, and she suffered in silence. She put on a brave smile every single day, and it was a thing someone as wonderful as her should have never had to face. That was the intolerable pain of it. He was not only a weak man, controlled by demons and substances, but he had wounded the strongest woman he had ever known. So he was both weak and wretched.

Yet still he let her stay.

That's what weakness does.

_**I still have the hi-fi / Quiet at all volumes / As my dull thoughts echo viscous and slow / Like the tolling of some great bell under water…**_

Three chimes. Three a.m. Gillian had loved that grandfather clock. It had been their first "big purchase" together as a couple, back when they were just starting out, back when they had nothing but each other. Funny how life has come full circle, because he is starting over again now. He has nothing again now. Only this time, there is no Gillian in his life.

So, minor correction: he has less than nothing.

Make that a major correction.

**_And when she cries, it cuts me / And when she smiles, I wanna die…_**

It was always awful when they fought. They didn't tend to do it often. How could you, when you were barely ever home together? So what little time they managed together – partly due to their conflicting work schedules and partly due to him needing the high more than he needed his wife – they did their best to avoid taking the bull by the horns. Avoidance wasn't a great plan, but it was all they had to work with. However, it could only last so long. She was a psychologist and he was a addict; when they struck, they knew how to strike for maximum impact. Without fail, their fights made Gillian cry. Alec felt like a heel.

But even worse than when she cried was when she smiled.

Whenever Gillian smiled, Alec died a little more inside because he knew she held onto that hope of him still being the man she loved. He hated himself for making her hope and for not being that man and for being too weak to even let go of her.

**_Afraid of knowing myself / Our eyes stare out while we hide inside…_**

He knows exactly what he feared all along. He fears a lot of things.

He always feared the day Gillian would realize he wasn't who he pretended to be. He feared that she would see that his attempted recovery was failing. He feared that if Gillian realized those things, he'd never be able to keep her. He fears the threat that Lightman presents because even though he can be kind of a jerk, Cal is a good man and he cares for Gillian. To make matters worse, Alec knows that Gillian loves the guy. Oh, she says they're only friends, and Alec knows Gillian would never be unfaithful.

But still.

She loves Cal, and maybe she doesn't even realize how much. But Alec realizes it. So he lives in fear of it. Because Cal is the better man, and the day Gillian realizes that…

Alec's fears consume him and haunt him and taunt him. To silence them and try to escape from them, he runs back to cocaine. It's the worst possible decision he can make and he knows it. He's losing it, and he knows it. He's out of control, and he knows it.

His worst fear…

His worst fear came true tonight. When he looked into her eyes tonight, he saw that same look he always saw in the eyes that stared back at him as he chopped those neat, white lines on the mirror each day. Disgust. Disappointment.

But there was more: pain.

And pity.

Oh, that one cut deep.

**_Looking at it, not seeing it / Looking at it, not seeing it…_**

He should have seen this coming.

He did see it coming…in his lucid moments.

He put his head in the sand and chose not to see it coming.

He never saw this coming; he just kept on flying, higher and higher.

She isn't coming home again. Not ever again.

He remembers watching her go.

And this place is no longer a home.

Empty and silent.

Tick. Tick. Tick,

_**The open windows / Let in the spring air today / And the birds sing their thankfully happy, brainless song / But the silence here finds a way to stay…**_

The long morning shadows stretch themselves across the room, clinging to every corner as though unwilling to be chased away by the rising sun. It suits Alec just fine. He wants the shadows to stay. He doesn't want the light of day to shine on the shambles he has made of his life, of their marriage.

What has he done?

_**Some kind of explosion / God, if You hear me, throw me a line or strike me down…**_

How many times did he hope (pray?) that this high would be his last high? Not because he would kick the habit. He knows he is trapped. He knows he is too far gone for that. He knows there is only one sure escape from this self-made prison. He hopes (prays?) each high will be his last because he will go too far, pass the point of no return.

Pull me out, or pull me under.

Just let it end.

Let.

It.

End.

_**Do you refuse even to accuse? / Go on, do your worst / But lift this curse / Lift this curse / Lift this curse…**_

Alec wishes Gillian would have…

If she would have just…

Sometimes, he wanted her to yell. To push. To confront. To call him on his bs.

But she didn't do any of that. She was _good_ to him. She was supportive, nurturing, caring. Damn her, she was all the things a wife should be. She never stopped trying to love him.

It shames him.

It is somehow worse than if she hated him.

_**We built this house on solid ground / But now it's crumbling, tumbling down / Will nobody here even cry out for help / As it slowly collapses into itself…**_

It is gradual. It is slow. It is inevitable. And when it finally disintegrates, it is excruciating. Even knowing he brought it on himself doesn't make it any better or worse. And anyway, even if he cries – even if he screams – there's no one left to hear him now.

He is alone in a hell of his own making.

_**Hanging on to this pain / It's no good / It's no good / But we try again / We try again…**_

In the end, he had to let her go for his own good.

In the end, he had to let her go for her own good.

In the end, he had to let her go for their own good.

This house aches. The walls bear silent witness to his descent.

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_**Coda: **_**So, here's the thing: I didn't really want to write this. I don't like Alec, and I certainly never felt any sympathy or empathy or anything at all for him other than what could probably be qualified as disdain. However, when I was trying to write my next chapter for Waiting To Happen, this piece was in my head and was hampering my ability to do anything otherwise productive until I got this out of me; so here it is, for whatever it's worth. He's probably not the most popular character, though some people may like him. Hopefully, someone will find some redeeming value in reading this. Even though I don't like the character, I did enjoy writing the piece because I do appreciate a good dose of morose now and again. Finally, due credit: House, courtesy of Mr. h. **

**Thanks for reading. Do please leave a review if you felt anything one way or another.**


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